


It's Worse

by Kizimba



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Being inconsiderate has nasty ramifications, Cuddling, David Acting as Max's Parental Figure | Dadvid (Camp Camp), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Max Needs a Hug (Camp Camp), No beta we die like rednecks, Sickfic, TW Vomiting, dadvid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23546560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizimba/pseuds/Kizimba
Summary: Max hasn't been feeling well for a few days and when the campers catch wind of his deteriorating condition they make a competition out of who has the best remedy. In their excitement they forget all about how Max feels until, finally, he's pushed too far...Rated Teen for Max's uncensored potty mouth.
Comments: 52
Kudos: 380





	1. Pushing It

**Author's Note:**

> If I have any dyslexic readers please let me know so I can make this a podfic for you! :)

People often connected insomniacs with early risers. Max found this frustrating assumption played along the theme ‘if I can’t see it, it’s not there’. It was as if you couldn’t have a problem sleeping unless you were awake when everyone went to bed and awake when everyone woke up.

The bags trying to sag off his face were an obvious sign that Max had trouble sleeping but people often overlooked them — both the bags and the coffee. He tended to think this was because of his skin color but the likelihood was that they probably just didn’t care.

Except for David.

 _David_ was hopelessly oblivious. The insufferable camp counselor was hard wired to see only the best, the brightest, and the most positive things. He only noticed anything else if someone started crying and Max just _couldn’t._

There was a reason Max was always the last kid awake in the morning.

There was a reason Max had his own coffee maker in his tent.

There was a reason Max still slept with his bear at night.

And there was a reason why Max’s fuse was so short today.

Insomnia.

Max sat in his usual seat, flanked by Nikki and Neil on either side, staring into the mush of his shitty morning potatoes and trying to count how many shitty days had passed since he’d slept. Sometime yesterday he’d realized he’d started micro-napping again so that must mean today was either the fourth or the fifth day.

This experience wasn’t as new as the setting. Usually, Max was alone with his problem. More and more lately he learned he liked it that way.

His brain just couldn’t handle so much _constant_ sensory input. Hell, even when he _could_ get a few hours of sleep he still needed at least an hour a day away from everyone else to recharge. He spent the last few days waiting for some proper chaos to distract everyone so he could slip away. But, strangely, Camp Campbell hadn’t suffered one of those peaks. Max didn’t have the strength to create one like he usually did.

With no sleep and no time for social recharge, Max had begun spending the majority of his day between high functioning anxiety attacks and dissociative episodes. Today he was somehow doing both at the same time. He’d been doing both since somewhere around 2:45 in the morning and he hadn’t stopped yet.

Max was scared this would never end. Utterly exhausted, he heaved a sigh and slumped against the table, trying to ignore the shadows flickering in his periphery.

“-ax? Max!”

The boy shook himself and looked up. He found the mess hall deserted and, alarmed, turned around. Neil and Nikki were both waiting for him at the door, looking back with curious expressions. They might have been a little concerned but Max was too tired to notice.

He’d been hallucinating again.

“Fucking hell,” Max muttered. Then, louder, he said, “Christ, just chill, guys. I’m coming.” Muscles protesting, he slid to the ground with an unsteady wobble and stuffed his clammy hands into his kangaroo pouch.

Every little thing felt surreal and every little thing he did elicited some kind of pain response — in many ways that Max himself didn’t recognize as pain. It was just too complicated for his mind to deal with and consequently became background noise.

Neil and Nikki shared a look. Max ignored it, stepping into the blinding glare of another insufferably bright summer day. He had to close his eyes for a few seconds, groaning as the sunlight agitated his headache.

“Hey, Max?” Nikki began, drawing his name out a little as if she was going to ask him for a favor.

“Uh’huh?” he hummed, already walking away. The longer he stood still the more unsteady he felt on his feet. The faster he got to wherever it was his friends wanted to go, the sooner he could sit down again.

Nikki caught up to him quickly, an energetic skip to her step as she moved ahead of him and tried to catch his eye. “Is there something wrong with you?” She asked tactlessly. Max almost lurched to a surprised stop, irritated despite knowing Nikki didn’t mean it.

Neil saw Max’s eye twitch and quickly headed off one of his nastier retorts as the three stepped onto the activities field. “Yeah, are you ok, Max? You’ve been zoning out and acting weird all week.”

The typical unpredictable bustle of the activities field boosted Max’s anxiety and made him hyperaware of how uncontrolled the world around him was. He couldn’t keep track of what was going on, couldn’t draw up the energy to react, aware only of flashes of color and movement. Worse still, he couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. He struggled to pinpoint one sound from another, all blending into a terrible cacophony of unfiltered noise.

Headache spiking towards migraine and empty stomach lurching threateningly, Max pressed his palms against his eyes and sucked in a gasp of pain through his teeth. “Fuck,” he groaned and asked Neil to repeat himself before realizing his mind had caught up and he understood the question.

Neil furrowed his brow and reached for Max’s arm, “I said ‘are you ok?’ You’re kinda—” He couldn’t finish before Max attempted to swat his hand away, his heart throbbing aggressively in his throat when he caught sight of his friend’s seemingly harmless gesture.

Exhausted and uncoordinated, Max ended up weakly slapping his fingers and muttering a dangerous “fuck off, Neil.”

He tried to meet Neil’s eyes but looking up made his eyes and his head hurt worse so, despite the how clammy he felt inside it, Max pulled his hood over his head. Taking his sunglasses out of his pouch he slid them onto his face and managed a little sigh of relief. It wasn’t a fix, far from it, but it kept the sun from making it worse.

“Fuck,” he cursed again with a miserable yawn, aching body stiffening through a standing stretch. “Sorry Neil. I’m just tired and my head really fucking hurts. I think I—”

“Still? Jesus Max, it’s been two days!” Oh, so today was the fourth day. Headaches like this one didn’t usually start until after the second day without sleep.

“You have a headache?” Nurf asked and when the trio stared at him a little too long he crossed his arms with a growl, “Yeah, I still exist. Maybe you three need to start hanging out with other people, too.”

Neil opened his mouth to challenge him but Max cut him off. “Fuck off, Nurf. I can’t deal with your shit today.”

The bully was silent for a moment as he figured out what to say to change Max’s mind, looking as if he genuinely just wanted to be included. And as tired and miserable as Max was, even _he_ heard the hope in Nurf’s voice when he laid out the proverbial olive branch, “even if I could help you get rid of your headache?”

Max… _couldn’t_ say no to that.

And so the longest, most difficult day to date that summer began with a competition to see who could ‘fix’ Max.

Nurf tried to prepare a remedy he said his aunt used when she didn’t feel well but halfway through he clearly forgot what went in it and needed to collaborate with Nikki, who’s mom suffered frequent ‘migraines.’ Max knew those ‘migraines’ were really hangovers and he didn’t need to meet Candy a second time to confirm that. 

He ended up bravely downing a shot of what could only have been lukewarm fish oil, a raw egg with bits of eggshell still attached, and what would have been a dangerous amount of cayenne to someone who wasn’t raised Indian. Neil complained the smell of it was making his bronchioles inflame, but that statement was too much for Max to take apart.

He spent around three minutes nearly suffocating as he violently vomited the horrible drink onto the gravel outside the mess hall. There, Nerris found them and claimed she could magic “his sickness away with a healing incantation.” Max didn’t have time to correct her about the ‘sick’ remark and the others didn’t seem to care to before the girl began. She chanted some gibberish Max could barely hear over the blood roaring in his ears and the migraine pulsing up against the back of his eyes. Then she waved her arms around her like one of those wacky, inflatable, flailing arm tubemen starring at gas stations and car dealerships before chucking a fistful of dice in Max’s face. She held her dramatic pose a moment, as if expecting praise. She didn’t get any.

Ered overheard and claimed she had the best cure-all remedy, as if such a thing existed, and decided to prove it by attaching a near delirious Max to a skateboard and pushing him off the mess hall roof.

Max still had no idea how the adrenaline junky got the both of them up there.

His decent was slowed by tree branches and nettles and if he twisted anything when he hit the ground he was already in too much pain everywhere else to notice. Shame his adrenal glands were already shot to hell. Otherwise Ered’s plan might’ve worked. Even if only temporarily.

Lying in the weeds and waiting for his friends to come and find him —Nikki whooping and Neil fussing about the legal ramifications for killing a child —Max apathetically realized this was how he was going to die.

By the time Preston appeared, Max was trying to escape. It had become like that stupid game of telephone lazy teachers would give their kids to keep them from getting bored in line. Somehow ‘Max has a headache’ turned into ‘Max needs help waking up’. His efforts to correct this mistake were broadly ignored and any tears he accidentally loosened could easily be blamed on whatever torture he was being subjected to at the time.

No one was really sure how or when Preston got wind and decided to join in but they all ended up at the theater anyway. His solution was, of course, a play. But it seemed the young playwright forgot why he was making a play to begin with and the result was just a poorly constructed theatrical performance designed, it would seem, to make Max feel like shit about himself.

It worked.

Not that you could tell by looking at his face. Max’s father taught him better than that.

The play was such a huge hit Max was forced to sit through it almost seven times before he decided to try and slip away. But of _course_ , he slid into a micro-nap before he could and was dead to the world for all of thirty seconds. Preston somehow found his nap very offensive and the three were quickly kicked back to the activities field.

Max appreciated Harrison’s attempt the most because it didn’t require him to do anything but stand there and wait for the poor magician to figure out how to conjure medicine from thin air. In a way, he was sort of successful. He _did_ manage to steal some kid’s emergency inhaler.

As Neil and Harrison argued with each other, Max swiped the inhaler and stashed it in his hoody with Neil’s epipen. For a nerd, the kid had a bad habit of being forgetful. Or maybe he was just too embarrassed about it. Maybe he wanted to wean himself off his emergency meds the same way Max was trying to wean himself off of Mr. Honeynuts.

He pursed his lips a little and stepped back to let a frazzled rabbit scamper away from Harrison’s hat. Head pounding he narrowly avoided getting smacked in the face as Neil continued his tirade.

Yawning hugely, jaw popping and aching, Max watched the argument escalate and thought of all the things he quietly did for his insecure tentmate. With a sigh, Max decided his very smart friend was an idiot.

“Hey, Max?” Nikki asked beside him. He knew she was looking at him but he didn’t have the energy to do more than hum at her. “Can I have my juice back? All this adventuring is making me thirsty.” Now Max did turn to her, unable to hide just how utterly confused he was.

She blinked at him.

He blinked at her.

“I—” he began, obviously struggling to get his bearings. Nikki looked as confused as Max felt and suddenly he forgot what they were talking about. A wave of heat flew down his body and left his hands and feet tingling, his skin clammier than before. It left him feeling weaker, more unsteady and dizzy than he was a moment ago. “Sorry,” he muttered, lifting a hand to clutch at his head, “What did you want, Nikki?” Max didn’t even have the energy to consider hiding his ongoing symptoms.

It would be over at the end of the day, he just had to make it to the end of the day.

Right? And he could take it if it didn’t, couldn’t he?

 _Shit,_ Max thought and realized he was swaying a little. He squinted up at the sun and wondered what time it was. The day had to be half over by now, right?

“—y juice box!” Nikki shouted at him. “ _Hello?_ You said you’d hold onto it for me after lunch, Max. Did all that adventuring really make you forget?”

Staring at her, unable to remember lunch even happening, Max vaguely wondered if he was about to pass out. Had he even eaten anything today? He shook himself.

“On second thought, maybe you should have it instead, Max. You don’t look so good. I’ll just drink that potion Neil’s making.” Feeling more exhausted than he could ever remember, Max slowly trudged after the colorful blur as Nikki raced over to Neil’s science bench.

He sat down and listened as the self-proclaimed scientist tried to shove the energetic adventurer away with his foot, both hands busy with beakers. Max’s headache had turned into a migraine long ago and the burden of sleep deprivation was changing his mood again. Anger at his friends began to bubble beneath the surface.

Why couldn’t they see they were making it worse? Didn’t they care?

Was it really just another fucking day for them?

Watching Neil fight Nikki for the beaker in his hand, shouting that it was supposed to be used on Max and had to be thoroughly tested before even then, Max realized that was exactly what it was. His hurt at the realization was manifesting as anger. Why it mattered to him at all only added fuel to the fire. Something about friendship, right? Fuck.

“—x? Uhh, hey? Max, you there?”

Max snapped out of another micronap at the irritating sound of Neil’s voice in his ear. Instead of responding he grumbled and slid his tired eyes to side-glare his companion the way he saw his mother do. When she did it, businessmen just about pissed their pants. But what Max managed clearly wasn’t as effective as Neil’s face became concerned.

“I just said the medicine I’m making for you won’t be ready until tomorrow—” Max wondered if he even remembered what it was supposed to be for. He hadn’t really _asked_ , after all— “You wanna go see Dolph?”

“Yeah!” Nikki cried, throwing her fists into the air above her head like it was the best idea and Max’s thought process didn’t currently embody a buffering symbol. “Dolph’ll know what to do! He cured me of my death!”

The dramatic, fed-up sigh that Max expressed when he figured out what was going on was almost a replica of the one his parents usually gave him when they didn’t want to deal with him. “Ok, first of all; you were never dying. Second; Dolph never ‘ _fixed’_ anything. Gwen did. _Third;_ Why the fucking _fuck_ would I fucking want to do that?” Max’s already questionable filter had clearly dissolved itself.

Neil and Nikki exchanged a look eerily similar to the one from this morning.

“I mean, at this point it’s that or David,” Neil confessed with a shrug.

Clearly unimpressed Max glared at his two friends. He tried to weigh the pros and cons but just ended up frustrating himself further, unable to focus his thoughts.

“Fuck it. Fine. Let’s go.” He growled, allowing Nikki to drag him to Dolph’s ‘infirmary’. At least there he could lay down and maybe focus on _not_ throwing up— or maybe dry heaving since he couldn’t recall eating.

Max felt like a lit cigarette burning down to his stub. Entering Dolph’s tent, though it was more like a bivouac now, he wondered how much of him there was left to burn and what would happen to him when it was gone.

“Dooolph!” Nikki called, “Something’s wrong with Max. Can you fix him?”

Dolph, already playing doctor with Nerris, saw them and quickly wrapped things up. Max heard something about drinking something to restore her mana or something… He didn’t care.

As Nerris left he hauled himself onto the cot and lay there listlessly. Breath slid in and out of his lungs freely, his heart beat as if it were pacing anxiously, and his skin felt cold despite his clammy hoody.

Max closed his eyes, only half listening to the conversation going on beside him. He felt certain his body was forgetting how to sleep and the lack of control he had over that was scary. The tired, high-strung, and anxious boy was at his wits end, on his final thread. He didn’t like this much attention, especially when he felt so miserable. Usually he’d end up feeling way worse by the time it was diverted elsewhere. Weakness was unacceptable in his household.

Max felt vulnerable.

And now, to top it off, he was being studied.

“Hmm,” Dolph hummed and leaned over his ‘patient’. “Please take off unt sunglasses so I can make mine assessment!”

“No.” Max said simply.

Dolph didn’t seem to know what to do with that. “V-vell…uhm—”

“Come on Max, just take them off,” Neil interjected flippantly.

“You’re pushing it,” Max warned lowly.

As smart as he was, Neil seemed to think Max was just being his usual uncooperative self and turned to Nikki for help. While the three were focused on each other, someone new entered the tent. The sunglasses were off Max’s face and he was left struggling to make the connection for a length of time that, under normal circumstances, would have been embarrassing.

While he lay there, staring at the ceiling and trying to process this development, Ered announced herself.

“Hey little dudes,” Ered greeted, waving with Max’s sunglasses, “Sorry for interrupting.”

“Ered? What are you doing in here?” Nikki demanded, eyes sparkling.

Ered calmly gestured to a bloody path of skin rubbed off her forearm, “I came to see if this little man had any more band-aids for me. I totally wiped out.”

“Oh yes, Ered! I vill get you unt band-aid. Tsk tsk, you must be more careful, you know,” Dolph reprimanded as if he’d done so before. Knowing him, he’d probably said the same thing dozens of times. While he turned to rifle through his pile of stolen medical supplies, Neil and Nikki turned to Ered.

“Wow!” Nikki gushed, “That’s incredible, Ered!”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” even Neil sounded impressed. Max felt himself relax, knowing he was no longer the center of attention. A part of him was willing to admit that the sound of the other campers talking to each other was calming.

“Nah, dude,” Ered replied dismissively, as if she was too cool for pain. Max would’ve scoffed if he wasn’t so tired.

It was just pain. No need to make a big deal out of it.

Things got very quiet.

Then, suddenly, Dolph’s voice erupted above Max, jolting him awake.

“—ot good.”

“What is it, doc?! What’s wrong with him?!” Max flinched badly. No-one noticed. Had he been asleep just now? Had he? Ered wasn’t here anymore and Dolph had his dumb stethoscope in his hand. That was new, right? It didn’t feel like it was a micronap.

“I’m so sorry,” Dolph began, his back to Max. He felt the mad desire to strangle the boy and wondered if this was how Daniel felt. “Max has died.”

Nikki gasped dramatically. “No!” she cried, “Max is it true?”

Max sat up, the world spinning dangerously around him. He could tell they thought this was funny and it angered him so much he could feel his skin trying to change colors. The tired child couldn’t even get his eyes to stay more than half-open despite his rage, let alone focus.

“Oh! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” Neil asked, looking a little timid when Max swung his gelid gaze towards him. 

Max said nothing. He simply stood, walked out of the tent and hoped they wouldn’t follow him. He _needed_ to be alone. Maybe if he could get away from them fast enough he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He _really_ needed to be alone.

Before Neil or Dolph could say anything, Nikki, who apparently hadn’t read the mood, literally leapt into Max’s personal space. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried, as if she had realized something. “Are you a zombie now, Max?! I wanna be a zombie too! Can you bite me?! Here!” Nikki shoved her forearm under Max’s nose, almost punching him in the process and pushing his fight or flight into over drive.

Max no longer had the energy to resist reflex.

Jerking back he reached up with a leg and kicked Nikki in the chest as viciously as he could. The mean shove sent her flying into the dirt and skidding to a stop a few feet away. It clearly knocked the air out of her. She sat up, her shoulders veiled by a thick dust cloud, hugging her stomach and heaving through a coughing fit that made Max’s rage falter.

“Jesus Christ, Max!” Neil’s adenoidal pitch sliced into Max’s head like one of Daniel’s knives. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Max opened his mouth to say something but a shout from Nurf cut him off. “Hey man, what’s your fucking deal?” Of course, the stentorian sound of his voice caught the attention of the rest of the camp and soon everyone was focused on Max.

“Yeah dude,” Ered agreed, walking over with her board under her arm. “What’s your problem?”

“That’s no way to treat your friends!” Nerris scolded, Harrison agreeing beside her.

Bombarded on all sides, he watched his vision tunnel and listened to the sounds around him turn to static. Things only popped back into clarity when someone yanked him up by his hoodie and he choked.

With a terrified yelp Max swung out with his fist, not caring whether he connected. Hell, he no longer cared what was going on or where he was, he just wanted to run somewhere safe.

Someone started screaming and Max was dropped— or perhaps thrown. He stumbled and only kept his feet under him from years of practice. _No-one cares. No-one_ actually _gives a shit. That’s never mattered to me before, so why now!_

With as much energy as his adrenaline could afford him, he made a break for it.

And ran straight into David’s legs.

“Woah, woah, woah! What in the gosh darn heck is going on, Max?” David demanded as the child bounced off his limbs and tried to run in another direction. With an obvious wobble, his attempted flight was abandoned when Gwen grabbed his arm. His body was rapidly running out of energy and he could feel it protesting; his diaphragm aching and his heart beating so hard he could acutely, _painfully,_ feel blood pumping through it.

He threw another sloppy haymaker at Gwen but she dodged easily and tried to grab his other arm. “What the hell’s gotten into you, you little shit?!” She grunted as Max twisted out of her grip and skittered back to resume his escape. 

Effortlessly Gwen took two steps forward and swept him into a bearhug from behind. Max wasn’t sure what happened after that– he must have blacked out again –but when he came to he was on the ground, back pressed to a tree on the other side of the path, and his jaw was aching. He gasped, fighting himself as hard as he could for feeble sips of air.

David stood low to the ground in front of him with his hands out, looking at Max like he was some kind of injured animal. His eyes were wide with disbelief, shocked at whatever the boy had just done.

Gwen cursed from where Max could see her over David’s shoulder, clutching her forearm and gritting her teeth in pain. “What the hell, Max?!” she demanded, checking her wound and glaring at him.

“Gwen—” David began.

She cut him off, “Shit, David. He bit me!” The boy’s heart dropped into his stomach when he saw the puffing, circular, already bruising _bite mark_ on Gwen’s forearm. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Max ran his tongue over his teeth and felt ice sweep up his body at the taste.

“Kids, what is going on?” David asked, looking over his shoulder. Shakily, Max did too. Nurf was nursing a bloody nose and Nikki still had a hand on her belly, her other hand in Neil’s. Everyone seemed to shrink away from his glare, many of the younger kids too scared to even meet his eyes.

“We don’t know, he just went crazy all of a sudden,” Ered said, passing Nurf some cotton balls.

“We were just playing,” another said. Max no longer cared who.

“He’s nuts!” someone else agreed.

“Yes! And a thief,” Preston announced. With a flourish he revealed Neil’s medication. Seeing the epipen in the air, for a moment, all Max could do was think, _That’s Neil’s. That’s Neil’s. He needs that._

Somehow, Max had dropped it. He’d made a mistake.

He’d made a mistake. He’d made a mistake. He’d made a mistake.

_“—should’ve just aborted it while we had the chance—”_

_“—insufferable parasite!—”_

_“I’ll show you what happens when you make mistakes like that, you—!”_

_Max_ was a mistake.

As accusations flew and the volume of noise around him grew, Max’s eyes locked with his gangly friends’. He waited helplessly for Neil to correct them.

Neil didn’t.

“Now, now, kids. I’m sure this is all just a huge misunderstanding,” David tried to placate but his voice wasn’t louder than Gwen’s.

“David, we shouldn’t let the kids play with him right now.” She sounded worried.

In that moment, all Max’s pain, and rage, and _hurt_ coalesced into just one word: “Play.”

And that was it.

“ ** _ENOUGH!_** ” He bellowed as loudly as he could. A flock of birds took to the skies in the distance. He put so much force into his scream he had to pause after to catch his breath.

Everyone went dead silent. No-one dared to comment on the interruption. They were nothing but half-open mouths and angry bodies and shocked eyes.

Finally, _finally,_ they were listening to him.

“My _pain_ is not _your **fucking** game,” _he spat tightly and tried to swallow the knot in his throat. His whole body shook.

“It’s not your _fucking toy_ to _compete_ over. And it’s — And it’s sure as _shit_ not a _pretend fucking problem_ that you can _pretend fucking fix,”_ he gasped, swaying and trembling. He didn’t know when he’d pushed himself to his feet and he didn’t care, steading himself against a tree. “You— you want a – a take away lesson from this _shit_?!”

“Max—”

“How about this one: you’re all some motherfucking ignorant, selfish _cocksuckers_ who should just—” he heaved in another deep breath, pushed away from the tree, and screamed at them again, “ _leave me **alone!!** ”_

Max’s face was red and his cheeks were wet and he still felt clammy and gross but as he stared down the camp, no-one knew what to say. He would’ve welcomed the relief of silence if he wasn’t so upset. His whole head was completely stuffed now, and the migraine made his eyes pulse painfully. Desperate, Max wondered how he could make himself pass out. He just wanted this to end. He wanted it _all_ to end.

A few long seconds passed as Max fought to catch his breath and keep his stomach out of his mouth. Then he turned and stumbled dizzily towards the lake, cursing and limping as he did.

No-one followed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve seen dozens of fics playing with the hc that Max has insomnia. As an insomniac, I feel the need to tell yall; it’s worse than some of you think. Of course, the effects of insomnia are a little different per person and therefore somewhat subjective. I've based Max symptoms somewhat on my own, with important tweaks to accommodate for size and age differences. It's not really clear to me how children feel sleep deprivation and if/how different that is to adults.
> 
> Stats tell me nothing!! Comment with an 'O' if I should continue and an 'X' if not. 
> 
> If I don't get any feedback I'll assume people aren't interested. And that's Ok! I won't stop writing. I simply won't publish the completed version of the fic. No point publishing if I'm the only one reading. :)


	2. The Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to ZenlessZen for their helpful critique. :)

It, thankfully, didn’t take too long for the counselors to piece together what had happened. Gwen’s insight was particularly helpful when it came to commiserating with Max’s migraine. Many of the children had never experienced one before so even those, like Neil, who knew what they were conceptually, hadn’t understood how painful they were.

Naturally some of the campers remained somewhat unsympathetic. They struggled to understand why Max’s reaction was so violent and panicked.

To this end David could agree; it had been more dramatic than it should have been. There had to be more going on to set someone like Max off the way he did.

David wasn’t as blind as he often seemed. He might not have been as attuned as someone like Max was to the world around him, but he made up for it with his empathy. And it was hard to ignore that Max hadn’t been himself for days.

Likely, the boy hadn’t known how obvious it’d become that he wasn’t well. He’d slowed down significantly by the end of the week, taking several seconds longer than would ordinarily be needed to process simple instructions. He barely spoke, hardly protested camp activities, struggled to follow objects with his eyes for too long, and visibly had difficulty identifying reds from blues.

During arts and crafts this had become obvious when the boy colored the sky of his simple picture red. Everyone else had assumed it was intentional. But, when David passed by he heard Max mutter to himself; “wasn’t this pen blue when I picked it up?” Other times he would watch the boy glance at something and do a doubletake, his dark face bewildered. It was like he was noticing things after his brain filled in the blanks.

Walking towards the lake David noted Max hadn’t stepped far from the trees, likely needing their support to keep himself from falling over. The thought made him grimace with concern. Over the last few days he’d noticed the little troublemaker’s trembling become more severe. Max hardly took his hands from his hoody pouch the last two days, unaware the fabric bunched around his shoulders and elbows gave him away. This afternoon’s panic attack had only made it worse.

David stepped up to the beach and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he scanned the shoreline. He wasn’t surprised when he saw no sign of his sickly camper. When David turned around and walked away from the docks, sticking close to the trees, he was relieved to spy a blue hoody through the foliage.

As he approached his relief quickly and cruelly turned to alarm when he realized Max wasn’t in it. Jogging over to pick it up and shaking out the dirt David’s alarm pushed to panic when he noticed the dark stain soaking through the fabric. Squeezing the saturated cloth and bringing it up to his nose his panic was swept away when he realized the fluid was juice, not blood. He even found the carton in the kangaroo pouch.

Glad that his camper wasn’t bleeding out somewhere but still concerned for his safety David looked around and followed Max’s trail further along the tree line until he came across a small figure curled tightly under the fronds of a large woodwardia fern. Just a short distance away lay evidence that Max had thrown up.

The little boy’s body shook fiercely and David’s concern burned hotter as he approached. He didn’t want to offend Max but David would have to treat him as he would a wounded animal until he knew more about the situation. It was most important that he didn’t scare the boy more than he already was and without knowing what had triggered him earlier David would have to be more aware of his own body language than usual.

“Max?” he called softly, lowering himself to the ground just a few feet away.

Max didn’t respond nor did he look up. Instead he curled into himself even tighter than before, wrapping both arms around his head to shield it as though he was expecting David to hurt him.

“Hey, hey,” David said calmly, seating himself where he was and ducking his head a little. “I’m over here, bud. I can’t reach you from where I am. Look, see?” It was almost a minute before Max shifted his arm a little and peered through the crack in his defense to see David. The poor boy was clearly crying and David fought to keep his expression free of sadness or sympathy. He had to stay calm and keep it together. But seeing just how miserable and vulnerable Max obviously felt made it a feat.

“You don’t want anyone to touch you,” he observed, lowering his hands, “So I’ll stay here until you’re ready to come out on your own. Ok?” A bloodshot, glassy eye, stared back at David, blinking rapidly and struggling to stay focused. Then it squeezed shut, an audible but soft whimper following just a moment after. When David didn’t comment on it another followed, louder than the last. Soon it was evident Max was fighting and failing to keep his sobs quiet.

David wanted to speak. He wanted to tell the broken boy it would all be ok and that he could cry as loudly as he needed to. He wanted to be able to emphasize the word ‘need’ to Max; so he would know David knew he didn’t _want_ to cry, so he would know that David understood he couldn’t control himself.

It was hard, but David couldn’t risk it. He and Max communicated on different wavelengths and David couldn’t risk creating a misunderstanding right now. He needed to see where Max was, emotionally and mentally. He needed to be _sure_ that Max didn’t see him as a threat.

So David took a deep breath and bit his tongue to keep his own tears back as Max’s whimpers turned into soft and steady wails.

“I’m sorry,” Max whisper-cried, still protecting his head and pushing his back deeper into the fronds. “I’mm s-sorry!” He fought desperately to keep himself quiet, even when he was having another obvious meltdown. “I’m fuckhhing– I’m fucking sorry!”

David rubbed valiantly at his own eye and pinched the inside of his bicep to keep himself together. He’d seen meltdowns like this before in the past. The fact that this was Max, though, made it so much harder to deal with. It meant Max had been conditioned to shut up and hide himself when he felt unwell. Not only had he been caught today, but David strongly suspected the other kids had dragged him into their usual, very talent-specific, and very involved camps. It was hardly any wonder Max snapped, based on that information alone.

But Max was strong, very strong. David admired that about him. Today, though, right now, he wished Max was weaker because he knew this little boy had gone through more than that. And knowing that scared David.

“There’s nothing— What are you sorry for, Max?” He quickly corrected himself. He didn’t want to invalidate how Max felt, no matter how much he wanted to tell him he had nothing to be sorry for.

“I’m fucked up— I fucked up. I fucked it up. Why do I always fuck everything up.” The boy was gasping, struggling to get enough air to keep himself quiet. David needed to find a way to calm him down and fast, before Max started hyperventilating again. “I _hurt_ people, David. I– I al–lways hurt people.”

“You haven’t hurt anyone. Your friends are fine, Max,” _good,_ David thought, _good we’re using names. C’mon Max, come back, buddy._ He continued to speak softly and slowly, ensuring Max could understand him. “Both Nurf and Nikki have hurt themselves far worse. And Gwen doesn’t like to admit it but she’s been bitten lots of times. Usually that’s Nikki’s fault,” David smiled. He chose not to mention that Nikki had never bit her as hard as Max had today.

Reluctantly Max was relaxing, muscles too tired to keep such a tight hold. “B-but they were mad.” His voice sounded tired too.

“Shock and anger can look like the same thing sometimes, Max. Especially when the sun is behind you and they have to squint to look at you.” That concept might be a bit too confusing for Max right now. Luckily the boy didn’t spend any time thinking about it.

“I’m tired,” he hiccupped, voice tight with desperation. “I just want to sleep. I want to sleep. I just want to _fucking sleep for fuhks s–sake!”_

“Max—”

“Shut up!”

David _oomphed_ when a yellow blur shot out from under the woodwardia and blasted into his stomach. From on top of David Max started screaming, punching his little fists against David’s chest. His blows hardly hurt, though he was clearly giving it his all. Against his better judgement the soft-hearted counselor gently wrapped his arms around the boy and held him close. His hold wasn’t bruising and Max didn’t fight it.

Everything Max had done was beginning to make a grim sort of sense.

Pushing the both of them up into a sitting position he felt Max’s little fists clutch his shirt.

“Tired,” he mumbled. Internally David groaned sympathetically. _Oh, Max. I’m so sorry._ “Tired of everything. Never been so tired before.” Max’s body started sagging so he pressed his forehead into his counselor’s shoulder. The heat burning through the fabric of David’s well-worn shirt tore a surprised oath out of his mouth. Luckily Max didn’t seem to notice.

When David looked down to check on him, the boy’s eyes were still open but he looked like he might’ve become unresponsive. They’d have to give the 24 hour nurse hotline a call again, once they got back to camp.

“Max?”

“…Yeah…?”

“How long have you been awake?”

“…What?”

“I asked you how long you’ve been awake for.”

Max appeared confused, brow furrowed. “I dunno,” he said slowly, “four…days?” The camp hellraiser was in no state of mind to be fibbing, never mind how he both _looked_ and _behaved_ like a child immensely starved of sleep.

David bit his lip to keep himself in check and took a deep breath. He still had to ask why he’d taken Neil’s medication. The boy was more open now than he’d ever been, and, David hoped, ever would be. He hated to take advantage of it, especially because Max was so far from himself he may as well have just become a different person.

“What were you thinking when you took Neil’s medicines, Max?” There was no accusation in David’s voice.

“I was thinking it was Neil’s,” the boy breathed, “and he’d lose it again if I didn’t hold onto it for ‘im. For a nerd he’s a real dumbass. Forgets his shit every time we get dragged off into the woods.”

David smiled, “That’s very thoughtful of you, Max.” Max just shrugged. “And what about your hoody? Do you know why it was wet?”

“Nikki made me hold onto her juice for her. Don’t remember when, though. I forgot.”

“I see.” David would have to talk to all of the campers, especially Neil. There was one final subject he needed to talk to Max about. “Does anyone ever hurt you at home, Max?” Although he had prepared himself for it, the Indian boy’s response still made David’s blood turn cold.

“Mh’hm.”

“Who hurts you at home, Max?” while asking his question he shifted his cargo around until he’d navigated Max into a more comfortable position for the both of them, allowing the exhausted child to curl his little body closer to David’s chest. Max shivered like a boy in a blizzard.

“Max?” David pressed softly when it appeared the boy wasn’t going to respond, “You still with me?”

“Uh’huh.” Max yawned, his jaw popping.

“Can you answer my question?” asked David.

David spent that evening learning Max’s family had an authoritarian approach to child rearing. Anytime Max forgot his manners or to ask for permission to do something he was punished. The boy rarely saw his parents as they both worked difficult jobs with long hours and anytime there was an opportunity for a ‘family’ vacation he’d be left behind with a nanny that used him like an ashtray. Someone who wasn’t his father, named _Mere Daadaji_ , was supposed to look after Max during the day but because of his poor social behavior (read: potty mouth) often deliberately deprived the boy of food.

Max didn’t like talking about it, especially after he revealed he’d had a big brother.

David shushed him and rocked him back and forth, tucking Max’s head under his chin when it started looking like he was devolving into a traumatic flashback. He did his best to reassure his favorite troublemaker. “Good job, Max,” he praised, “I’m proud of you. You did such a good job telling me all of that. There, see? It’s all over now.”

David sincerely hoped Max wouldn’t remember this when he was better, else he might find the Pest Control Camp’s camp mascot—Pin the Western Rattlesnake— in his sheets again.

For a while, the air between them was silent. Still rocking his sick camper back and forth, David began humming as he made a list of Max’s symptoms in his head for later.

“Hey David?” the exhausted child asked after a few minutes.

“Yes, Max?”

“Can we stay like this for a bit?” Max’s voice was soft and David hoped sleep wasn’t far off.

“Of course we can, Max. For as long as you want.”

\----

The world around Max came in and out through a fuzzy haze. All his senses were still there, just pleasantly muted. He didn’t remember being in pain. He didn’t remember feeling so scared he thought he might pass out or die. He didn’t remember his friends ignoring his pain to make him be their toy for the day. And he didn’t want to.

Because right now Max felt safe and everything was always warm and comfortable when he felt safe.

“–appened? Is he alright?” It sounded like Gwen was fretting about someone again. Probably Space Kid.

“Ssh!” David hissed, his voice right on top of Max. The boy couldn’t help his involuntary flinch and he sucked in a breath, making a halfhearted attempt to bury his face into the warm surface he lay on. Then, when things were still quiet, he settled.

There was a moment when Max felt himself carefully get moved around, head flopping bonelessly and feet swinging into each other. “–get him to the counselor’s cabin and phone the nurse. Are the other campers—”

“Oh, hell.” At least now Gwen was whispering too. Max didn’t know who’d fucked up this time and he didn’t care. He didn’t care at all so long as they kept him out of it.

Briefly Max listened to the sound of feet walking away from him. “Get back inside the mess hall and finish your dinner, kids. We’ll talk—"

\----

“Neil, I need to talk to you. Can you come outside with me?”

Neil didn’t ask until they were outside standing by the flagpole, “Is Max ok?” There were terrified tears in the boy’s eyes. He’d seen his friend in David’s arms when he returned just after dinner started.

David shook his head with a sad frown, “Max is very, very sick, Neil. Gwen and I are still figuring out how bad. We were hoping you could help us with that.” The tall, timid boy nervously raised his arms and pressed them to his chest like a squirrel. He clearly felt guilty, if not responsible, for what had happened.

Neil confirmed David’s suspicions and added a few more. He mentioned that Max’s bear had seemingly gone missing and it was weird that Max hadn’t seemed to care about it. “I always thought he needed it to sleep at night,” he’d said.

“When was the last time you remember seeing Max sleeping, Neil?”

“W-well, uhm, Tuesday? I thought he was taking naps during the day like he usually does but...”

Tuesday was four days ago.

\----

Max was unsure what he’d been dreaming about but when he came to he was crying and groaning. His whole body felt stiff and his neck burned with the peculiar pain of overuse.

It was so cold. The sick boy wanted to wrap himself more firmly in his blankets but he couldn’t make himself move. His clothes stuck to his skin, beads of moisture trailing itchy paths across his face and neck. The muscles in his legs flared with a pain that surprised him and he jolted, kicking his legs under the sheets and wriggling at the unpleasant feeling of wet cloth clinging to his wet skin.

There was a terrible smell in the air and voices speaking above him. At first it was like listening to people talk when your head was underwater. Then it became voices speaking through a thick wall. And then Max heard David’s voice. He felt the counselor’s palm press something cold onto his forehead.

“Easy there Max,” Gwen said beside him. He’d never felt so soothed by her voice before but still winced at the proximity, having expected David. “I know. It doesn’t feel good, does it?”

“–well it’s been toggling between 101.8 and 102.1 and– oh, uh, since 8pm yesterday, I think. I mean, that’s when we took it but he didn’t– no, no four days. He’d said he hadn’t slept in _four days_. Yes.” Max could hear David talking to someone in the distance, his voice politely hushed. “Oh, uhm, his pulse? Yeah, just a moment.” The quiet tread of the thin man’s approach stopped at Max’s side. David fiddled with his sheets, speaking quietly with Gwen as he dragged Max’s hand out from his watery bedding. “They’re saying if his temperature goes beyond 102.2 we have to bring him to the ER. Do you still have some Gatorade we can give him when he wakes up?” A thumb pressed into Max’s wrist. Gwen stood up with a soft noise of confirmation.

In the seconds of silence that followed Max somehow managed to go back to sleep.

\----

“When are you going to tell us what’s happening to Max?” Nikki anxiously pressed David as he wrangled the sleepy children into the mess hall the next morning.

“Yeah and what was all that screaming coming from the counselor’s cabin last night? Usually we hear those coming from the Quartermaster’s store between 11 pm and 4 am.” David had a feeling he didn’t want to know what that was about as he ushered Neil inside after Nikki, squinting up at the heavy rainclouds with a grimace.

Max wouldn’t remember it but he suffered horrible night terrors his first night in the counselor’s cabin. More than once Gwen and David were torn from sleep by the normally so stoic child’s screams. A number of other campers had complained about the scary sounds this morning. They were all tired but they’d be feeling much worse if Neil hadn’t come up to the cabin last night with Max’s bear tucked under his arm.

He’d held the stuffy up for David to take with tears in his eyes and a determined frown on his face. David hadn’t had the time to do anything more than thank the poor boy before another scream from Max had dragged him back inside the cabin.

The other kids started to pipe up about their fellow camper as David carried a sleepy Dolph into the mess hall.

“I understand you’re all worried, kids,” David sighed, carefully depositing his sleepy cargo at the table and trying to forget about the deadweight Max had been in his arms the evening before. “I’m sure Max would be grateful for it if he were here but–”

“David?” Space Kid interrupted. The little boy stood next to the red head, looking up at him with big, mournful eyes. “Does that mean Max is dead now?”

\----

Opening his eyes, Max wondered if this was what hell was like. He felt sticky and gross and he was still exhausted and _Gwen snored like a pig with a collapsing trachea._ Glaring, he was just thinking of the best way to wake the counselor when the cabin door opened and David entered.

“Ok, Gwen, time to switch shifts. I got all the campers– Max!!” David rushed to the sick boy’s side, waking his co-counselor in the process. She came to with a snort and almost toppled out of her chair but managed to right herself against the bedframe.

“G-whah woa was ‘rong?” she slurred. Max was amused to learn she was just as ungraceful in the morning as she was during the day. “Is Max ok?”

“Hey, bud, how are you feeling?” David asked, leaning over him. He was treated to the somewhat pleasant smell of fresh pine and rain— not that Max would ever admit he liked those smells out loud. When he opened his mouth to respond his effort was interrupted by a huge yawn. “Heh heh,” David chuckled, his small smile fond, “Still sleepy, huh?”

Max treated him to the best glower he could manage.

Gwen stood up and stretched, giving a yawn of her own. “Knock it off, shitstorm,” she told him, “David and I were up all night taking care of you. Show some gratitude.” Max felt lucky neither counselor waited for any thanks and watched them talk about re-planning today’s organized activities. By the time Gwen left he’d descended to a state just before sleep, one where half his senses shut off and he became hypervigilant of the sounds around him.

Something nudged his shoulder. “Ok, Max. It’s time to wake up, kiddo.”

“Fuck off, David, I don’t need any of your bs right now.” His voice sounded croaky and speaking made his throat burn.

“But don’t you want to get cleaned up?”

Max peeled his eyes open, tempted by the offer.

David smiled his stupid happy smile when he saw Max listening. “You can use the counselor’s shower while I switch the sheets.”

“…”

\----

It was amazing how much better Max felt when he settled into the clean sheets after his warm shower. Even as tired as he felt, and how badly he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew he had to drink something first and so didn’t protest when David passed him a bottle of Gatorade. Max took shy sips and continued glaring at the obnoxiously happy counselor.

The red head was seated in the lounge chair beside him attempting to do some paperwork and failing. His eyes kept glancing at Max and Max was too tired to say anything about it. Suddenly David’s eyes widened and he reached for him, grabbing the Gatorade bottle and fixing its position in Max’s hand.

“Sorry,” David laughed a little at the startled expression he’d caused, “You almost had a spill there.” Max sleepily watched the camp counselor give up on his paper work and set the bottle of Gatorade on the night table. It became clear to him he’d been slipping only after David tucked his hands under his armpits and helped to drag him upright again, commenting on how there wasn’t enough back support. The next thing he knew David was sat on the bed with him and Max was leaning into his side. The bottle of Gatorade was pushed back in his hands. “I know it’s tough but you gotta drink a bit more, ok?” Max wanted to tell David off for treating him like a child but then he remembered he _was_ a child.

Growling Max accepted the drink and went back to sipping at it while David pulled up youtube on his phone.

\----

When Gwen came back to the cabin during lunch hour to switch with David, she took one look at Max cuddled up against David’s side, took a photo, and left. She only returned to drop off lunch on David’s desk.

It was Nurf’s activity day and she had a whole afternoon planned of psychology lessons.

\----

“Please, David?” At first, the sound of Nikki begging David for something wasn’t extraordinary enough to be interesting. With a soft grumble and a sigh he cuddled his bear closer to his chest, content to go back to sleep.

“We just want to make sure he’s ok.” By the time he heard Neil’s voice too Max was awake enough to remember where he was and felt a sudden spike of anxiety. Head swimming he realized how badly he didn’t want his friends to see him like this. Preferably, he didn’t want anyone to see him like this.

“Kids, Gwen and I keep telling you; Max is fine, he just needs to rest,” David explained softly. Looking around the cabin Max spotted him standing just outside the door.

“If Max is fine then why can’t we see him?” _Fuck._

“Yeah, _camp man?”_ Nikki challenged.

“Because he’s sleeping,” David answered. “The two of you should be aware of how badly he needs that by now. Especially with a fever!” In the guilty silence that followed, Max closed his eyes, resolving to let David handle the situation. “Trust me, if it were that serious we would have taken Max to the hospital by now— budget cuts or not.”

\----

“He doesn’t remember?”

David sipped his tea. “Well, he remembers pieces of the last few days but I think they’re out of order and he says everything got kind of fuzzy after he pushed Nikki. I think he _sort of_ remembers you getting bitten but he didn’t seem to remember his role in it.”

“Christ. I guess that’s to be expected.” All the campers had been sent to bed and it was just David and Gwen by the fire pit. Max and the counselor’s cabin was well within earshot. If he had another night terror both could be there in a flash.

“Do you think he’ll remember it all later?” David asked nervously.

Gwen shook her head, “I’m no expert but, probably not. I’ve already had a talk with the other campers about their role in this.”

“How’d it go? I talked to Neil this morning. He said he was embarrassed to admit to the other campers he had serious allergies. I think he gets bullied for those things at home… He feels really bad for letting Max get thrown under the bus for him, Gwen. Poor kid’s scared Max will hate him now.”

“…They’re good kids, David. Mature for their ages, too. But they think they broke him and I can’t tell them they didn’t.”

\----

“Oh! Oh! I can see him!”

“Really? Where? How does he look, is he ok? And lower your voice or David’ll catch us again.”

Nikki cupped her hands around her eyes so she could see through the window better. The blinds had been drawn but there was a little bit at the end that always got stubbornly stuck, leaving an open gap on one side.

The girl squinted, trying to make out Max’s figure in the dim cabin light. “I dunno. It’s really hard to see,” she answered, trailing off. “Why’d they make it so dark in there, anyway?”

“It’s probably for his headache,” said Neil, struggling to see his friend through the little gap. Frustrated, he stomped his foot, “Damnit, why won’t they let us see him?!”

Despite constant reassurances from the counselors about Max’s improving condition, none of the campers were allowed to go see him. This is what led to Neil and Nikki standing by the window outside the counselor’s cabin. If Max were with them their schemes would have been successful long ago. Why was this so easy for him? This was their third attempt in two days!

The door swung open and both kids yelped in surprise. David looked down at them with a smile that was both tired and fond. “You two are really that worried about him, huh?” They nodded.

“He’s our friend. Of course we’re worried.” Nikki almost sounded like she expected him to argue with her about it.

David bit his lip and seemed to think about something.

“Ok, but you have to promise to stop doing this after,” he relented, much to their relief. He held open the door and said, “Just a peak, you two. This is kind of a breach of his privacy and you know how Max is.” David didn’t let either of them any farther than a few steps through the door and only let them stand there long enough to see that their friend was resting.

Max didn’t look great; he was so sweaty his hair stuck to his pale face, his breathing was labored, and he looked uncomfortable. But he had half his face buried in his bear and he was fast asleep.

“He won’t admit it, but his bear has really helped,” David whispered.

\----

Max slept well into the third day; only waking up for meals, the bathroom, and the occasional disturbance. His sleep was restless and fitful for those initial two days. David almost drove him to the ER before his fever finally broke late into the second night. Max slept from 11:35 pm to 5:15 pm the next day and neither counselor could wake him up for meals. When he’d finally woken up on his own, he’d been given some more Gatorade and a hardy granola bar. Then David had sat down next to him and they’d had a serious discussion about keeping his counselors in the loop when he felt sick.

Very reluctantly, Max had admitted to sleeping better with Mr. Honeynuts and that he’d hoped he could wean himself off of his bear because it would make sleeping at home less stressful. He’d explained offhandedly that his grandfather would sometimes take Mr. Honeynuts away to punish him because he knew Max couldn’t sleep well without him.

Max didn’t understand why that made David so upset.

Their conversation turned into a somewhat one-sided battle when David started asking about his family and wouldn’t let Max shut the conversation down. In the end, Max was only as cooperative as he was due to his stubborn fatigue.

By the end of the emotionally exhausting experience— through which David learned _“Mere Daada”_ meant “grandfather” in Hindi and Max learned his abusive upbringing was more _abnormal_ than he thought —both of them were tired. Still, David rewarded Max by allowing him to pick any movie or tv show he wanted to watch until Gwen came back for dinner. Naturally, Max chose the one he knew would give his counselor nightmares.

They were well into their second episode of _Dark Reflections_ when Gwen opened the door, resulting in a girlish shriek from David and a complaint from Max.

For a while, Max watched the counselors try to decide who would stay with him and who would stay with the rest of the campers for dinner but eventually grew bored of the conversation. Wrapping himself in Gwen’s fuzzy throw blanket and putting his shoes on he’d marched up to the shitty adults and declared he was going to eat in the shitty mess hall.

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” David fussed motheringly, reaching for Max to check his temperature with the back of his hand only to be swatted away. “You’ve only just started feeling better.”

“Fuck off, David. This was a one time thing at best. Don’t expect me to start acting like your kid or anything.” As usual, the man was unphased by his remark so Max added with a grumble, “You’re not _mere pit_ _ā_ _._ ”

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” David chirped. The Indian boy scowled up at him but all it did was make the happy red head _happier._ Gwen raised a confused eyebrow at Max and glanced at David but didn’t push either of them for an explanation.

“You’re optimism is insufferable and a burden,” the boy groaned dryly as he walked out into the cooling evening air. David and Gwen walked carefully behind him, close enough to catch him if he fell but not so close enough to trip over him is he stopped. Max pretended not to notice and this ended up being a very fortunate thing when the trio came to the slope leading from the fire pit to the mess hall and he suddenly hesitated.

At the bottom of the hill, Max stopped and pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes and judging the distance. He wouldn’t say so out loud but his body felt rubbery and fatigued. If he was going to convince the camp’s sole adult and David that he was feeling better he had to get to the top without losing his breath. But the tough and stringently independent kid wasn’t sure he could do that.

He startled when David put his hand on his shoulder, alerting Max that he was there like one would alert a skittish thoroughbred.

“I’m just gunna give you a quick lift, alright?” David stated it like a gentle warning. Then Max was in the air and had no other choice but to cling to the man. He supposed, after everything that’d happened, he could afford his counselor _some_ trust.

A few embarrassingly easy strides later and the three were at the top. When David moved to set him down so he could walk the rest of the way, Gwen took one look at Max and intercepted.

“Uh-uh,” she said, “I am not letting you drag that blanket through all these fucking pine needles, twerp.” Glaring at her, Max tried to unwrap himself in David’s arms so he could return it but Gwen stopped him again as they approached the double doors. “I don’t want that, it’s covered in your sweat!”

“Gwen!” David admonished as she opened the door for them.

“Guess that means you don’t really care about the pine needles then do you, bitch?” Max retorted, kicking his feet against David’s chest in a cue to set him down. The bubbly counselor did so and when he was safely on the ground Max wadded the blanket into a ball and dropped it on the dirty floor of the mess hall, all the while maintaining direct eye contact with Gwen.

“You are such a little shit, Max!” The woman was still smiling despite her shout.

“Holy shit. Hey everyone! It’s Max!” Harrison shouted, being the nearest to him.

Surprised by the attention, Max whirled around and quickly found himself surrounded by his worried and elated peers.

“He lives!” Space Kid crowed, victorious for something on Max’s behalf.

“Max,” Nerris called and he looked to her as she asked, “Have you won your battle against the dark forces? Here take this potion. It will help you replenish your HP!”

“Nerris, this is juice,” Max told her plainly, almost too tired to be truly annoyed. He accepted the _caprimoon_ anyway, expecting her to say she’d cast some ‘buffs’ to enhance its effect, or something.

Instead she nodded and said, “Yeah! I remembered you didn’t get any last time so I saved it for you.” Max became visibly confused.

“Vee all did!” Dolph chirped, jumping off the ground to draw his attention.

“Uh, thanks?” Max asked as if he expected there to be a catch.

“Hey little man.” Someone nudged him and he turned around to find Ered crouching to his level, she shifted her eyes to the counselors but they were too busy setting things up for movie night to notice. Max glowered at her but the girl remained ‘coolly indifferent’ to his ‘icy disdain.’ “We broke into the quartermaster store while you were sick and found some old spray paint and marbles. Preston found some kerosene and a few poi balls for fire spinning under the stage, too.”

“Holy shit,” Max grinned.

Preston stage whispered, the quietest he could physically make himself, “We eagerly await your masterful directions for the most destructive mischief this camp of camps has ever seen!”

Already preoccupied with his scheming, Max hardly noticed he was still shivering. A macramé blanket, softened by years and years of use, was dumped on his shoulders.

“Jesus, guys,” Nurf interrupted gruffly, crossing his arms and staring the other campers down. “Stop being so inconsiderate! At least wait until he’s actually feeling better, _god._ ” Begrudgingly, Max had to agree. He wasn’t quite ready for that level of chaos yet. The camp’s resident bully then gestured to the blanket he’d given Max. “You better not fucking ruin my blankie,” he huffed, cheeks a little red. “My gran-gran made that for me. I want it back when you’re better, got it?”

“Uh,” Max began uncertainly, amazed. His usual defenses weren’t quite up to parr for this situation. Thankfully, Nurf was just as poorly equipped for this sort of emotional exchange as he was and lumbered off before Max could think of what to say.

Looking around at all the smiling faces, Max allowed himself a small smirk before he realized there were two missing. He was just about to ask where Nikki and Neil were when a loud bang and an excited _whoop_ narrowed their location down to the kitchen.

“Nikki! I told you not to touch that!” Neil shrieked as everyone approached the kitchen. Max heard Quartermaster’s signature grumble but it was too low to understand what he said. The door swung open and a cloud of black smoke billowed into the serving hall.

Neil and Nikki stepped out, the former coughing and the latter grinning as she always did after causing an explosion.

“But wouldn’t _actual_ fire make it spicier?” she was asking, “Max is always saying things aren’t spicy enough around here so why not make it the spiciest thing ever?!”

“Nikki you can’t literally eat fire— MAX!” Neil squawked and almost dropped the plate of curry he had in his hands.

“Max!!”

“Oomph–” The next thing he knew the air had been knocked out of him and he was on the ground with Nikki’s arms around him. “N–Nikki!” He wheezed frantically.

“Oh, sorry!” the girl took a sheepish step back and helped haul him to his feet.

“No, pretty sure I deserved it,” Max waved her off with a groan. And then before anyone could ask about his memory, “The fuck were you two doing?”

“Nikki and Neil volunteered to help make a Indian dinner tonight. They even suggested we go fishing for today’s activity.” David explained proudly, scratching a bead of sweat from his brow and leaving a smear of soot in its place. Behind him, Gwen was still trying to put out the fire. Quartermaster seemed content to watch her efforts.

\----

As everyone else finished dishing up Max sat down in his usual spot with his two friends. Neil presented him with a plate of fish tikka masala. “Nikki and I helped QM make sure yours was spicier than everyone else’s.” A gust of wind through a nearby open window blew the smell of into Max face and made him smile.

“We added spices until Neil and I started crying,” Nikki boasted enthusiastically and sniffled. It appeared Max wasn’t the only one to catch the smell as, when he turned to his friends, both were holding back tears. Max rolled his eyes and took a bite, allowing himself a pleased smile at the taste. It was like the stuff his big brother used to make him before he ran away.

“How does it taste?” Nikki demanded around a sloppy mouthful of her own. “Quartermaster said he added some spices from hell or something.”

“His exact words were ‘spices pilfered from the hottest depths of satanic hellfire.’ We had to use _safety goggles_.” Neil’s voice was scared.

Max smiled, honestly grateful for their extra effort. “Shit you guys, this is really good!” And it was. He wondered if Quartermaster knew how to make _Phaals curry._

In the distance he heard Gwen shout _“Damnit QM! Hellfire spices are not for children!”_

\----

“Here you go, Max!” Space Kid presented him with a fluffy pillow, clearly not one of the camp’s flat sandbag pillows. They’d all just settled in for the night’s movie. “You can borrow my favorite pillow!” Stomach comfortably filled with a proper Indian dinner, surrounded by friends, and feeling pleasantly warm wrapped in Nurf’s blanket, Max didn’t have it in him to do anything more than accept it. He’d already become the centerpiece of a shrine dedicated to various sleep aides the other campers decided to loan to him anyway. No point protesting now. 

He was safe. No-one wanted him to do anything for them and he felt cared for. And Max never felt this way at home.

Oddly enough, it made sleeping easy.

Or maybe it wasn’t that odd at all…

_~end~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally think Max’s home life is more along the lines of rich negligent parents who had a child to get their family off their backs and now expect said child be part of the tapestry. Hence why Max tries so hard to be self-sufficient, bitches about the camp’s utilities, and struggles with feelings of loneliness and inadequacy. If I manage to write another story I can go into more detail about the abuse Max faces at home but until then I’ll let yall fill in that blank for yourselves. I glossed over it in this fic because I ran out of energy for it and shit was getting long.
> 
> I've got more content on my tumblr but it's not singularly camp camp (tho a lot of my recent posts have been new hcs and shit I see in the episodes I keep rewatching;A;): https://fairytalewarrior.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Thanks for all the feedback last chapter!! All those 'o's were really helpful. I'm so glad we can enjoy this together. I'll respond to all other comments when I have some time in the next day or so. :)
> 
> Yall STAY SAFE and STAY HOME!! We're gunna get through this quarantine and we're gunna be ok!
> 
> Cheers!


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